Teenage Dreams
by OnceUponASam
Summary: A series of angsty and/or fluffy scenes in the lives of Kurt and Blaine.
1. Pilot

_A/N: This is my first fic EVER, so...bear with me. Mostly fluff and angst, we'll see how this goes. _

_It'll probably be a series of little moments, starting from *dramatic pause* THE BEGINNING. I wanted to write some tension. _

_Okay. So. Reviews would be much appreciated, whether they're nice or not, I'd just like to know how I'm doing. :)  
_

_.*.*._

Well, that shouldn't happen. No. Blaine's stomach should NOT flutter with such excitement when he sees the name on his caller I.D. _Kurt. _He picked up.

"Hello?" he said, too eagerly.

"Uhm, hi."

"Everything okay?" Blaine asks, concerned. It's only been a couple weeks since the Karofsky incident.

"Uh, yeah." Kurt struggled to remember why he even called. It wasn't just so he could hear Blaine's voice or anything. He doesn't think it sounds like a mixture of velvet and chocolate. That's ridiculous. "I just...wanted to...say hi."

"Well...hi," Blaine said, smiling a little. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Pretending to do my homework, you?"

Blaine looked down at the French book in his lap, the sheet of paper he was supposed to be translating things on completely blank. "Same."

"Is that Kurt?" Blaine glanced up toward the door, noticing Wes-and his ever-present right hand man, David-standing in the doorway of his room. "Ask him when he's transferring to Dalton already."

"Who's talking? Do I hear Wes?" Kurt asked, almost simultaneously.

"Yeah," Blaine says, answering both of them. Wes started making wide gestures with his hands, signaling that Blaine should ask the question, and David started making little heart shapes and nodding meaningfully.

"How are they?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. "They're...fine. Insane."

"Have they set anything on fire lately?"

Wes stumbled in the middle of his motions, almost knocking over Blaine's desk lamp. He laughed.

"Not within the last twenty-four hours, but it's highly possible."

Blaine could hear Kurt smiling at little when he said, "Good luck with that. I have to go, Mercedes just texted me; apparently there's a fantastic sale that I'm missing and you know we can't have that."

Blaine grinned. "'kay." Should he say something else? Nice talking to you? Miss you? No, definitely not the last one. "Uh, talk to you later?" Eh. Not much better.

"You bet. See you."

"Bye."

The second he hung up, Wes and David bombarded him with questions.

"Well? Was he confessing his undying love for you yet? Are you going to get married and honeymoon in the Bahamas?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Blaine said, his ears turning a little red. "We just met, like, a month ago."

"So? Snow White and Whatever-His-Name-Was met and fell in love in about a minute."

"That's a fairytale, you goof. And I always preferred Belle anyway."

"Would that make Kurt the beast?" Wes asked, grinning.

"Their babies would be awfully hairy," David continued.

Blaine threw a pillow at them.

.*.*.

But, really, it only HAD been a month, Blaine reflected later. Kurt was in a fragile place right now, and Blaine didn't want to hurt him or freak him out or anything. It was true, he _might _kind of like Kurt and he _might _think he was totally gorgeous and there _might _have been a few minutes in between coffee non-dates that he wished that he could remove the "non" from in front of the d-word. However, Kurt had been through a lot in the past couple of weeks and Blaine knew that it was important, with all the Kurt had had forced on him, that he let Kurt recover a little and be a gentleman. Maybe even the best friend, if Kurt wanted him to. He was determined to be there for Kurt, ever since the innocent countertenor had tried to spy horribly unsuccessfully on the Warblers. Blaine had thought it was completely cute how Kurt had tried to blend in, and if they had met under different circumstances, he might have asked him out for coffee or dinner and he _would _have been able to remove the "non," but as it were, Kurt didn't need a boyfriend right now. He needed someone he could come to anytime, someone who could be there instantly for him if he wanted, even if he was just feeling particularly down about everything one day. Blaine was happy to be that person.

.*.*.

Blaine was more than happy to be that person if he got to keep seeing Kurt and making him smile like that.

They were sitting in their favorite coffee shop. It was small, but cozily so, and warm. It was a happy-looking place, with hardwood floors and really comfy loveseats and the most delicious chocolate-chip scones Blaine had ever had in his entire life. He took a bite of his as he tried to remember what he had said that made Kurt look like that; his entire face lit up when he laughed, his blue eyes sparkling. Blaine had seen all the cheesy love movies and read plenty of cutesy love stories in his time, but never in his life had he ever encountered a situation where someone's eyes actually _sparkled. _And somehow, Kurt's just did. All the time, unfortunately for Blaine.

"I so do not believe you did that!" Kurt giggled. Oh, right. They were talking about the time Blaine filled Wes's pillow with Jello in retaliation for stealing his hair gel.

"I did! It might seem a bit steep now, but seriously, it was _every single bottle. _Even my backup bottles."

"You have backup bottles?" Kurt said, raising an eyebrow. "Furthermore, you have _more than one?" _

Blaine grinned sheepishly. "I like my gel, okay?"

Kurt pretended to be writing a note to himself. "Do not come between Blaine and gel. Blaine and gel are in deep, committed relationship."

Blaine shoved him playfully with the palm of his hand. "Shut up. It's an open relationship."

Kurt looked at him slyly. "Open enough to get you to cut back on it a little?"

"Absolutely not." Blaine waved his hands around his head, protecting his gelled hair. "I _need _it."

"Blaine, you have a problem. A serious problem."

"Right, I'll check into Gel User's Anonymous tomorrow."

Kurt leaned forward and put his hand on Blaine's knee, feigning concern. "You should do it tonight. This can't wait." Blaine almost laughed, but he was too distracted by the fact that Kurt's hand was on his knee. Kurt was _touching _him. Why was that such a big deal? Why was the warmth of those graceful fingers sending buzzing electricity up his leg? He just stared at it for a minute before he realized Kurt was waiting for him to reply. He met Kurt's eyes and wasn't sure what he saw there.

It took Kurt almost an entire minute to move his hand, clearing his throat.

"Uh..."

"We...I..."

There was a fair amount of stuttering from both of them before Kurt piped up,

"So, did you finish that essay you were telling me about?" It was a feeble attempt at conversation, he thought, but it got them talking again and soon they'd fallen back into their regular pattern, after...what _had _that moment been, exactly? Kurt might have touched his knee, but so what? Kurt might have wanted to just leave his hand there, but who cared? Kurt might have wanted to move his hand up, past that knee, to where Blaine's shirt was tucked into his pants, which was easily remedied...

WHAT. No. He had to stop thinking these thoughts. They'd just met, barely a month ago. Barely. And Blaine didn't think of him that way, he was sure of it. Right?

Right.

He didn't.

.*.*.

Across the loveseat, Blaine was thinking, too.

Absentmindedly, his fingers traced the spot Kurt's had been.

Kurt didn't think of him that way, he was sure of it. Right?

Right.

He didn't.


	2. Unfairness

Kurt glanced around the halls of McKinley. He felt much safer now that Karofsky was gone. He wasn't looking over his shoulder wherever he went, and he almost always had one of his New Directions friends watching his back. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and as he pulled it out to check the message he was reminded of his new friend, the one who was watching his back from farther away. But still watching. Like a guardian angel.

_Hey, _it said. _Just wanted to tell you to have a good day. _

Kurt smiled, typing his reply.

_Coffee later? _

The reply was almost instant.

_You know it. _

.*.*.

After coffee, Kurt wanted to go shopping and he didn't feel much like going alone, so Blaine tagged along.

"Look at _this,"_ Kurt gasped, running his fingers over a soft-looking grey sweater. Its collar was a little shorter than a turtleneck, open just at the top with a couple of fashionably large buttons on the front. It was nice, Blaine had to admit. He thought it would look especially nice on Kurt.

"It's very you. Try it on," he suggested.

Kurt did so eagerly, hurrying to find a dressing room. Blaine waited patiently for him to come out, positioning himself in a chair by the mirror.

Blaine's mouth dropped open when he saw Kurt.

Okay, that was _so _not fair.

It was snug, highlighting Kurt's slim waist and making him look taller than he really was. It stretched tightly across his chest, only just touching the waistline of his jeans. If he shifted in just the right direction, the tiniest bit of skin was revealed.

"Oh, I love this," Kurt exclaimed, turning to look at himself and giving Blaine a very clear view of the way his jeans hugged his legs and ass area. Blaine loved it too. He loved it a _lot. _

"What do you think?" Kurt asked, turning to Blaine.

"Ah…it's, uh…I like it," he sputtered, since what he was really thinking was __ _. _Also, _yum. _

"Really?" Kurt said suspiciously.

"Yes," Blaine said, clearing his throat. "You look amazing." Curse his tongue. And curse Kurt for looking so gorgeous.

Kurt blushed a little at the compliment, looking at his reflection again.

"I'm buying it," he decided.

"Yay! I mean, good," Blaine stammered. Kurt looked at him a little oddly and went to change.

It was utterly unfair, Blaine thought several stores later as he watched Kurt buy a scarf and a shirt that had totally made his neck look unnaturally long and graceful. It was unfair that Kurt had to be so beautiful and just expect Blaine to be able to restrain himself. He could at least hold his hand or something. Friends did that, right? Or a hug. Blaine could get away with a totally platonic hug, right? Right.

.*.*.

"This is ridiculous," Wes said later when Blaine was recounting the story. "You should've gone _into _the dressing room with him. That would've solved all our problems."

Blaine shoved him. "It's not funny. You should've _seen _him. His _neck, _and he just looked like…and oh my god…and…just…" Blaine lost the ability to form coherent sentences as he remembered. Vividly.

…The way the sweater tugged tightly across Kurt's chest, his surprisingly muscular arms rippling as he moved. His shoulders sloped so gracefully from his pale neck…and his skin looked _so_ smooth, Blaine just wanted to run his hands all—

NO.

He had to stop that.

"_So _unfair," he moaned to himself.


	3. Decisions

_A/N: HELLO. Okay, so I know last chapter was short...I wrote it in class and typed it up super fast before I went to bed last night. My apologies. _

_I wanna thank everyone that reviewed and added me to their alerts/favorites thingie list, because it totally made my week, as silly as that may sound. _

_I'm not really sure how long this whole story is going to be...basically, I'll just ramble on about whatever's on my mind and that's how it will go. Yay. _

_Also, reviews are always amazing, negative or positive. You are awesome. Have a lovely day. _

_**Disclaimer that I kept forgetting to add: I don't own Glee. They are entirely too fantastic for that. **_

Kurt was at his locker when he saw him.

His stomach dropped into his feet, his whole body going cold. He couldn't feel his hands or face.

Karofsky was back.

Was this a nightmare? It had to be a nightmare. Things this horrible didn't happen in real life, did they?

He was still there, standing in the hallway, just staring at Kurt.

He didn't move. He didn't even blink. He just stared. And for some reason, that was a thousand times worse than all those times he'd pushed Kurt into the lockers. It was almost worse than that horrible, angry kiss he forced on him in the locker room that day.

The bell rang, snapping Kurt out of his reverie. He closed his locker, slowly, and turned, almost sprinting in the opposite direction.

_"WHAT?" _

Kurt had called Blaine, hiding in the girls' bathroom with Rachel. When he had come running, she had sensed he needed a place to hide for a minute and dragged him in there. Karofsky wasn't so desperate as to enter the girls' bathroom, she was almost sure. She watched him worriedly, wringing her hands. Luckily, Blaine had a free period this hour. If Kurt believed in God, he would've thanked Him.

"Karofsky's back," Kurt repeated, his voice soft and hoarse. "Blaine, I'm so scared. I don't know what he's going to do, or...I don't..."

"Kurt, listen to me," Blaine said softly, trying desperately to keep his voice steady even though he was practically shaking with anger and fear for Kurt. "You need to speak to a teacher. Just...just try to stay out of his way, okay? Until you can talk to somebody about why the _hell _he's back."

Kurt nodded, even though Blaine couldn't see it. "Okay. Okay."

"Kurt?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Everything is going to be okay, you hear me? It's going to be okay."

Kurt took a deep breath. Hearing him say it made Kurt believe, for the time being, that it was true.

"I know. Courage, right?" he said, trying to sound brave.

"Right." Blaine bit his lip, unsure what to say next. He didn't want to say anything to scare Kurt any more, but he was absolutely terrified, his stomach twisting into worried knots.

"I should...go to class."

"Okay," Blaine said reluctantly. "Kurt, I-"

"Yes?"

Blaine stopped. What was he going to say? What could he possibly say?

"Just...be careful."

"I will."

"Call me later, okay?"

"Okay. Bye, Blaine."

"Bye."

Kurt hung up, looking wide-eyed at Rachel. She squeezed his hand and went to look outside.

"He's not there anymore. He probably went to class."

"Yeah. Probably." He couldn't stop himself from imagining Karofsky lurking just out of sight, waiting to jump on him. His heart pounded wildly. Rachel didn't say anything when Kurt walked more quickly than normal to class.

Later, in Glee club, Kurt went to Mr. Shue.

"Why is he back?" he croaked. That day had been awful. He'd barely been able to concentrate and every time he hadn't walked to class, he'd run. Even though Finn had been following him around for most of the day once he found out, he still didn't feel safe.

Mr. Shue put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I talked to Coach Sylvester about it and...she said the school board...they overruled her expulsion and let him come back."

_"Why?" _Kurt asked desperately.

"I don't know. I'm sorry." Mr. Shue really did look sorry, and Kurt felt a little bad about it.

"It's okay. It's not your fault."

It's the stupid school board. They didn't know what Kurt had to deal with. Like they'd understand, he thought bitterly.

.*.*.

Kurt didn't really pay attention in Glee club. When it was over, Finn walked him to the door, just to be safe, then went to get ready for football practice. Just as Kurt was on his way to his car, he realized he'd forgotten his Trigonometry book in his locker and went back to get it. The halls were deserted, and he felt a little better. Besides, Karofsky would be at football practice, right?

Wrong.

"Hey, fag," he heard, right next to his ear. He whirled around with a gasp, his face inches from Karofsky's. The two boys stared at each other. "You got me expelled, and kicked off the football team," Karofsky hissed. "You're gonna pay for that."

_"HEY!" _Kurt heard. They both turned to see all the guys from Glee club, even Artie, gathered in the hallway. The football boys were all half in uniform.

"Get the _hell _away from him," Finn snarled. Karofsky backed away a little, but not before leaning close to Kurt, so close he could smell the nasty school lunch on his breath.

"You're gonna pay," he hissed. He stormed off, leaving Kurt breathless, leaning numbly against his locker. The boys ran over.

"Kurt! Are you okay?"

"What did he do to you?"

"Are you hurt?"

Kurt just looked at them, eyelids fluttering, and then everything went black.

"KURT!"

"Is he okay?"

"He just...passed out."

He woke up lying on the bed in the nurse's office. The lights were bright. Too bright. All of the Glee club, Mr. Shue included, were gathered around him. They hadn't left yet. Slowly, Kurt's vision cleared. Someone handed him a glass of water and helped him sit up. He took it gratefully, sipping. He looked at them, all his friends, their faces full of worry and concern. It felt like someone was missing. Then, suddenly, a voice came into his head, echoing.

_Courage. _

He knew that voice well. And just then, he realized that he couldn't live like this anymore. He couldn't take this. He wasn't that strong. He realized that there was only one place he'd feel truly safe.

.*.*.

"I'm transferring to Dalton."

Blaine felt such a wave of relief his knees almost buckled. Thank god. He'd be safe. If he were here, Blaine could keep an eye on him every day. Blaine would...see him...every day.

It hit Blaine what exactly Kurt transferring meant.

Kurt would be living at Dalton.

So close all Blaine would have to do is call his name.

Sleeping at Dalton...hanging out with him at Dalton...showering at Dalton...STOP. What was he thinking? Was he really so insensitive as to be thinking about _that_ when Kurt was probably feeling horrible about everything? Blaine remembered how he'd felt. Leaving the few friends he had...

"That's great, Kurt! I'm sorry it's come to this, but you know we'd be glad to have you, anytime."

"Thanks, Blaine."

"Have you told your parents yet?"

"Not yet...I'm going to tell them right now. I just...wanted to tell you first."

"Oh."

Blaine didn't know why, but he liked being first.

.*.*.

"Do you have a roommate?" Kurt had called him after he told Burt and Carole he wanted to transfer. They'd consented immediately.

"No. My roommate moved just before the year began." Blaine wondered why he was asking.

"Uh...would it be terribly intrusive if...I requested that they let me room with you?"

Blaine dropped the phone. Kurt heard the clunk and called his name a little worriedly. Was it too much to ask? He just...didn't know anyone else. They'd told him single rooms weren't available this late in the year. Blaine scrambled to pick up the phone again, his heart jumping a little.

"No. No, it's not intrusive. I...you can...I'd _love _it if you roomed with me." _Too much enthusiasm, Blaine, calm down,_ he told himself.

"Oh," Kurt said, pleased. "Okay, great. Thanks. Feel free to kick me out anytime you decide I'm too much to handle."

"I think I can handle you," Blaine said.

"We'll see about that," Kurt challenged.

Blaine grinned, glad to hear getting back to his normal self.

.*.*.

Kurt moved in that Saturday, and when Blaine went out to his car to help him and Burt unload his bags, Wes and David followed him.

"Kurt!" they squealed, crowding around him. "YOU'RE HERE."

"Uh, yes, I'm here." Kurt picked up the heaviest suitcase. Blaine reached out and took it from him, Kurt smiling at his chivalry.

Wes clapped him on the back. "We're excited. We think you're _just adorable. _Especially Blaine."

"Hey!" There was a kick aimed at him, but he dodged it. Blaine walked faster, his ears burning red. Kurt grinned at them.

"Thanks, I guess."

"Let's get you all moved in! You and Blaine, roomies. It's exciting."

"Is it?" Kurt said absentmindedly as they walked into the entrance hall. He'd forgotten how _big _it was. He followed Blaine to his room. His side was messy, but not disgustingly so. Actually, it looked a little like someone had frantically tried to clean up a little bit. Blaine's guitar was sitting on his bed, and his laptop was on the desk. There wasn't very much decor, just a couple posters of bands Blaine liked and some pictures of his family and friends. It was simple.

Kurt liked it already.

"Welcome to my room, I know it's a terribly thrilling environment," Blaine said, setting Kurt's suitcase on his bed. Kurt smiled.

"I like it. Thanks for letting me stay with you."

"Anytime," Blaine said, smiling at him. The two boys just gazed at each other, sharing a look. Neither of them weren't sure what it meant, but neither of them wanted to look away.

"Ooooookay," Wes said intrusively, waving his hand between them. "Not to interrupt the eye-speaking going on here, but we've still got over half of Mr. Hummel's luggage to move in here."

"Yeah, Kurt, were you packing for the Apocalypse or what?" David chimed in, heaving another suitcase onto his bed.

Blaine and Kurt shook their heads, both blushing a little.

"You never know what to expect," he mumbled.

_A/N Continued: Okay, so, I hope the transition from McKinley to Dalton wasn't too quick or anything. I feel like this story's moving pretty fast...but I wanted to write tension, and now that I'm writing it I just want them to realize they're meant for each other. I don't even have enough patience for my own stories. This is a problem, you guys. _

_Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you have a lovely Friday (Friday, Friday, gettin' down on Fraiiiiidaiiii). _


	4. Breakfast

_A/N: Heyyyy, so I know a lot happened in last chapter and I JUST posted it but I've been reading fanfiction all day and I rewatched Sexy and Original Songs and oh my GOD, I always forget how delicious their chemistry is. _

_In other news, you guys are amazing and I still do not own Glee. _

Kurt's first day at Dalton was somewhat eventful.

He'd expected to get a little lost (despite his slightly obsessive studying of the map they'd given him), he'd expected to be behind in classes (even though he'd completed the majority of his makeup work already) and he'd expected the classes to be more challenging (even though he was, admittedly, sort of brilliant), but he had _not _expected to wake up to his roommate humming Joe Brooks without a shirt on.

Without a shirt. Kurt's tired mind couldn't really remember why shirts were even necessary, ever. His eyes traced over Blaine's muscular stomach and he bit back a disappointed noise as Blaine pulled an undershirt on, his curls hanging wet and free after his shower. He noticed Kurt awake and smiled.

"Mornin'."

Kurt sat up sleepily, blinking.

"I was gonna wake you up, but I looked at your schedule and your first class isn't until eight. Do you shower in the mornings? I can show you where they are. Breakfast? There's coffee and waffles and stuff."

"Are you always this...chipper?" Kurt asked, trying to decide between resentful and amused. Blaine grinned, knowing that if Kurt knew how bad his bedhead was, he'd probably have some sort of conniption fit. As it was, Blaine thought it was adorable, but whatever.

"Only when I get new roommates."

"You're such a five-year-old," Kurt said, deciding on amused, and swung his legs off the bed. Blaine immediately turned away. It should be illegal, he thought, for someone to look so good in just plain old pajama pants and a simple v-neck.

"I deny nothing," Blaine retorted, adjusting his tie. Kurt stretched his arms above his head, his shirt coming up a little and exposing skin almost all the way to his bellybutton, and _fuck, Kurt, stop being...yourself. God. _

"I'm going to breakfast, I'll grab you a coffee and come right back, the showers are down the hall to the left, fourth door on the right," Blaine rattled off, practically sprinting from the room. Kurt lowered his arms, wondering what he'd done.

.*.*.

The showers were nice, with individual stalls and stacks of clean towels on a rack just outside. Kurt, seeing a lot of other boys walking back to their rooms in only their towels (they were only just down the hall anyway), wasn't too self-conscious about doing the same thing. He didn't feel like he had anything to be particularly embarrassed about and he wasn't weird about his body or anything. Besides, they would only see him from the waist up and he had some muscle from cheerleading. No big deal.

Blaine looked up when the door to their room opened, nearly dropping the two coffees in his hands when he saw Kurt.

"Uh, hi," he sputtered, knowing he was staring. But, come on. Seriously, what was the universe trying to do? He set Kurt's coffee awkwardly on the desk and grabbed his schedule.

"Let's see what you have today," he said, his voice slightly higher pitched than normal.

Kurt went into their bathroom to change, calling out the door, "I thought you'd already looked at my schedule."

"Yeah, but...I forgot," Blaine lied lamely.

Wes and David appeared just as Kurt was fixing his tie, effectively saving Blaine from having to lie badly some more.

"How's the new kid settling in?"

"Great, so far, but my day hasn't even started yet," Kurt said, smiling.

"Excellent. How's being roommates with Mr. Anderson going for you?"

"Also great," Kurt turned his smile to Blaine, who managed to smile back. "I'm hoping I'll be able to gradually wean him off the hair gel," Kurt stage-whispered. Blaine pretended to look offended.

"Kurt. We talked about this, remember? It's a part of me, and if you can't accept that, then...I don't think us rooming together is going to work out."

Kurt mock-gasped. "Blaine, you...you don't know what you're saying!"

Wes and David watched their banter with fond amusement. The four of them started walking down to breakfast, Blaine and Kurt still chattering away, now about the Joe Brooks song Blaine had been singing.

"They're so cute," Wes observed. "Why aren't they together again?"

"Apparently, it's 'only been a month,' according to Blaine. Something ridiculous like that. He thinks Kurt 'doesn't need a boyfriend right now' and he needs a 'supportive friend' or whatever."

"That's crazy. They're made for each other," Wes said, gesturing to the pair as Kurt playfully shoved Blaine and laughed at him, Blaine's grin glowing.

.*.*.

At breakfast, Wes and David rolled their eyes at another show of total chemistry as Kurt reached his napkin over and wiped some syrup off Blaine's face from his waffles.

Kurt didn't notice Blaine blushing and kept talking about how if they didn't release Lady Gaga's new single soon he was going to cut someone.

Wes and David exchanged a look.

Wes mouthed again, _Made for each other. _

_A/N Numero Dos: I've recently realized my endings are sort of abrupt. I'll work on that. _

_Also, reviews are like cupcakes and hot chocolate on a cold, rainy day. Speaking of cold, rainy days, I'm in the middle of one so you MIGHT want to expect a mini-fic about what Blaine and Kurt do on cold, rainy days later. etc. _


	5. Movie Night

_A/N: Okay, so that rainy day fic might have to wait for another rainy day. _

_I really shouldn't promise stories, it doesn't end well. Also, I use Google Translate for any French words, so forgive my mistakes. :)  
_

Dalton was a lot more challenging than Kurt had expected.

He _did _only get lost once (on the way to English, the only class Blaine wasn't able to walk him to), but he had absolute truckloads of homework. On top of that, he had Warbler's tryouts after school, and by that time he was too tired to be nervous. He just sang, he sang with everything he had. When he finished, he felt close to collapsing from exhaustion. And he still had homework to do. Fuck, how did Blaine do this every day?

He had his books and papers spread out on the bed around him, his iPod plugged into the speakers he'd brought and softly playing the Wicked soundtrack; he listened to it when he was feeling stressed. Blaine poked his head around the door. He'd been in Wes and David's room and he'd invited Kurt, but he'd opted out in favor of homework.

"Hey, we're going to supper, wanna come?"

Kurt looked up, his eyes wild. One could say he was panicking a little. "I don't have time for eating, Blaine. I have _so much_ homework. How am I supposed to do all of this?"

Blaine chuckled. "It gets easier. Don't worry, I'll help you if you have trouble." He walked over to him and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "But for now, you need to eat. C'mon, let's go." He tugged on Kurt's arm until he gave in, smiling. Blaine looped his arm playfully through Kurt's and led him over to where Wes and David were waiting.

"Yay, is Kurt coming?"

"No, I just brought him out here so he could turn us down to our faces," Blaine said sarcastically. Kurt grinned. Blaine slipped his arm out of Kurt's, and Kurt felt an odd sense of loss at the sudden lack of warmth.

.*.*.

It was after midnight when Blaine woke up and found their light still on and his roommate still awake, scribbling away.

"Kurt?" he asked hoarsely. Kurt looked over at him, smiling to himself at how disheveled he looked. His curls tumbled into his eyes and his voice was rough with sleep. How someone managed to be so attractive after just waking up, Kurt would never know.

"Mhm?" Kurt thought about turning back to his homework, but he kept his eyes on Blaine instead, watching him slowly sit up, his blue nightshirt stretched tightly across his chest. They may be just friends, but Kurt would never deny that his roommate was incredibly _hot._

"Why are you still up?"

Kurt waved the papers at him.

"Go to sleep, man. You have a free period tomorrow after lunch. I checked. You'll have some time to do homework then. Okay?"

Kurt looked down at his homework, then back up. He w_as_ tired, he decided. "Fine. But if any of these assignments are late, I blame you."

Blaine grinned. "Fair enough." He rolled over and was already dozing off when, in the fog of his exhausted mind, he remembered something he'd meant to tell Kurt. Or had he meant to NOT tell him? He couldn't remember.

"Kurt?"

"Mm?" Kurt reached over, turned out the light and leaned back onto his pillows. He sighed contentedly and just as the soft blanket of sleep was descending over him, Blaine mumbled,

"By the way, you almost had me in tears at Warbler's practice today. Your song was beauuuuuutiful." He drew out the U in beautiful, too tired to really acknowledge what he was saying.

Kurt was no longer tired. "Thank you," he stammered, blushing fiercely.

"'Welcome."

Great, now he wouldn't be getting _any _sleep.

.*.*.

It had been a week, and Kurt was almost entirely accustomed to the ways of Dalton. He prided himself on being a fast learner. In the meantime, he and Blaine had become even closer than they were. They'd been pretty good friends before, but seeing each other every day, all day, they were more than just coffee buddies now. They were best friends, and Friday night found them sitting together on Kurt's bed, facing each other, knees touching, with their books open on their laps. They were studying French, which seemed to be the only thing Blaine was even remotely bad at.

"I don't get it," Blaine said, his forehead crinkling adorably in frustration.

"Here, I'll show you again," Kurt said patiently, writing out the preterit tense forms of the verb _chanter _(to sing). But Blaine wasn't looking at the paper. He was looking at Kurt, at the way his auburn hair tumbled into his eyes as he bent over the paper, the way he bit his tongue beneath his teeth when he concentrated. He was beautiful, Blaine thought, shaking his head to clear it when he realized what he was thinking about. He shoved his book out of his lap and onto the floor, Kurt looking up at him in surprise.

"I give up for now. I'm watching Mulan," Blaine said decisively.

"Oh! Can I watch too?" Kurt asked excitedly.

"Of course," Blaine said, bringing his laptop to Kurt's bed and cuddling up right next to him. Their legs touched form their ankles to their hips, like they were joined at the waist, and Blaine leaned his head on Kurt's shoulder. Blaine was naturally affectionate like that, and Kurt wouldn't have minded as much if his roommate's hair didn't feel like _silk _beneath his cheek and didn't smell like wood and home and _heaven. _For God's sake, Kurt didn't even believe in heaven. He wrapped his arm around his roommate anyway, leaning his cheek on his head...in a purely platonic way, of course.

The movie started, and even though they usually sang along with Disney movies together, when Mulan sang Reflections this time, Blaine stayed quiet. After his tryout on Monday, all he wanted was to listen to Kurt sing. Forever. His voice was _angelic _and Blaine had never heard anything more perfect in his life.

_"Can it be, I'm not meant to play this part?" _Kurt sang softly. Blaine felt the vibrations of his voice against his head where it was tucked under Kurt's chin. He hummed quiet harmony and listened.

_"Why is my reflection someone I don't know? Somehow I cannot find who I am, though I've tried..." _

Blaine closed his eyes. He didn't care about the movie right now. He was content to listen to Kurt's voice. Kurt's beautiful, utterly flawless voice. The song ended-_too soon, _Blaine thought-and Blaine opened his eyes, trying to hide his disappointment.

He sang with the rest of the songs in the movie so Kurt wouldn't get suspicious, but he sang a little more quietly than usual.

_A/N: Okay, so I know most of this has been fluff so far (aside from Karofsky's short return), but I'm trying to plan some angst. Two boys can only be in love with each other without dying of sexual frustration for so long. (Also, there will be no smut in this since it's only rated T, but I'm pretty sure I'll be writing a sequel rated M with some, uh...heated scenes. I don't know, I'm still not really comfortable using the work "cock" casually. Cock. _

_Cock cock cock. _

_*flails*  
_


	6. Insert Awesome Chapter Title Here

On Saturday Kurt woke up early, for whatever reason. He didn't feel like sleeping in, so he got up and (after doing his hair and regular morning moisturizing routine, of course) meandered down to the kitchen Dalton had. He stood staring blankly into the fridge for a minute before he realized what he wanted to cook. He could just eat at the cafeteria, but he loved cooking and he was_ good _at it.

It was Saturday and he had just had one of the most exhausting weeks of his life brain-wise, and he was going to make pancakes. Screw being healthy (for today at least).

He had made coffee and was mixing the pancake batter ingredients all together and beginning to pour them into a pan when boys started filtering downstairs.

"Kurt?" Wes mumbled, rubbing his eyes. His hair stuck up on one side. "Are you...are you making _pancakes?" _

"Yes," Kurt said, flipping the first pancake. Wes seemed to wake up.

"I...LOVE PANCAKES."

"Good, Wesley. You may have some if you ask nicely."

"Oh, please oh please oh please."

Kurt stacked two on a plate for him. "Since you said _please." _

David appeared next to him. "Can I have chocolate chips in mine?"

Kurt looked into the bowl of batter. He'd have to make more. "I suppose so."

Some other boys Kurt didn't know as well stumbled into the kitchen, following the smell of Kurt's pancakes.

Blaine was one of the last boys downstairs, still in his pajamas. His hair was messy and Kurt was pretty sure there wasn't a trace of gel in it. He was also pretty sure those curls would feel _amazing _under his fingers, which were already twitching slightly with the desire to touch. He looked down, pretending to be very interested in his pancakes.

"Kurt? Didn't know you could cook," Blaine said, yawning. "Smells good." He scratched at his unshaven chin, and Kurt thought about telling him it wouldn't be horrible if he just...forgot to shave for a couple days. He decided against it.

"It's a secret talent of mine," Kurt said instead, giving a couple other boys pancakes as they ask for them and sipping his coffee.

"Can you make _cookies?" _Wes asked excitedly, clapping his hands like a monkey.

"Of course I can," Kurt said, looking offended.

"I think that may have been Wes's incredibly subtle way of asking you to make cookies, Kurt," Blaine commented, amused.

"You just had your breakfast!" Kurt said, turning to Wes. "Fatty."

Wes patted his completely flat stomach. "That's me. More, please."

"You'll have to be patient. Blaine hasn't even had any."

Blaine waved his hands. "No, it's okay. You don't have to."

Kurt handed him a plate with two think pancakes on it. "Too late."

"No fair, his are bigger!" Wes cried. "Injustice! Favoritism!"

Kurt rolled his eyes, ignoring him and handing Blaine the syrup. He poured it eagerly over his pancakes while Kurt got him coffee and a fork. Kurt watched him out of the corner of his eye as he took the first bite, wanting to see his reaction.

_"YUM," _Blaine said, letting out a contented _mm_-ing noise as he chewed. Kurt smiled as he handed Wes his second helping of pancakes, pulling himself up onto the counter to finally eat his own breakfast. He cut his pancakes delicately rather than shoveling them into his mouth like the other boys. Blaine looked up just as Kurt's tongue snaked out to lick at a bit of syrup at the corner of his mouth and warmth curled in his stomach. He was almost positive it wasn't from the coffee, either, or from the pleasantly full feeling he was getting from Kurt's perfectly fluffy pancakes. Kurt glanced at Blaine, noticing him staring, and flushed a light shade of pink.

.*.*.

Kurt _did _make cupcakes later. Blaine, saying he wanted to repay Kurt for the wonderful breakfast, offered to help.

"I can't believe you guys have a completely stocked kitchen here."

"It's Dalton," Blaine said, getting him the flour and sugar, "If we don't have it, nobody does." Kurt mixed the ingredients with a practiced hand, ignoring the recipe book Blaine had fetched for him.

"Do you make these often?" Blaine asked. Kurt seemed to have the whole process down, so he gave up on helping in favor of watching Kurt work. His hands even looked graceful as they cracked eggs, tapping them lightly on the side of the bowl and breaking them perfectly in two.

"Mm," Kurt replied absentmindedly, adding the brown sugar. "I like baking. Guilty pleasure of mine." He started up the mixer. Blaine couldn't help but notice Kurt dancing a little to the song playing on the radio. It just happened to be Teenage Dream, and Kurt just happened to be wearing very skin-tight jeans. The universe was weird like that, Blaine thought, his eyes tracing the aforementioned jeans. Screw the cookies, Kurt was delicious by himself.

Whoa, focus. That's not what friends think about each other, is it? But Kurt _was _attractive...it wasn't a crime to, uh..._appreciate_ his beauty, was it? He was probably pushing it by imagining the removal of those jeans, though.

Kurt unplugged the mixer and scooped the cookies onto the pan, sliding them deftly into the oven with the skill of a professional. He could be a chef. Kurt unhooked the beaters from the mixer and waved one at Blaine.

"Want one?" Blaine took it, smiling his thanks. He ran his tongue over the beater, licking up the dough. Holy hell, that was _amazing. _Blaine was about to tell him so when he noticed Kurt's tongue, poking lightly at the beater, and his fingers, scooping up the excess dough and sliding into his mouth.

_Aasjdksljfdklsjfsd, _went Blaine's brain. Kurt looked up, his eyes registering Blaine staring at him for the second time that day.

"What?" he asked curiously. "You keep looking at me."

Blaine instantly became _very _interested in his beater. "Sorry, I just keep zoning out in your direction."

"Really," Kurt said, not entirely convinced. He didn't push the subject, though, and continued to suck every last bit of cookie dough off the beater in his devastatingly _yummy looking _way that made Blaine want to push him up onto the counter and kiss him and made him think about if he would taste like cookie dough and how he would _really like _that.

Fuck, this was becoming a bit of an issue.

* * *

_A/N: SO MUCH FLUFF. Seriously, I'm beginning to drown in my OWN fluff. However, just like Kurt, I've had one of the most exhausting weeks of MY life brain-wise, and the angst will be coming after solo and ensemble contest (it's where all the instrumentalists and vocalists of the area get together and perform stuff in front of people because we're masochistic like that), when my thoughts are together. Generally, I don't like writing angst when I'm feeling angsty (oddly enough). Writing fluff makes me feel better, so...hence all the fluff. _

_IN OTHER NEWS, I have super duper plans for our favorite couple. I'm not sure if you will like them. I'm not even sure if I like them. I don't like to make my characters unhappy, but life is not, unfortunately, all sunshine and butterflies and making cookies with your super hot roommate on Saturdays. _

_More fluff on the way, but angst is coming. _

_Calm before the storm. _

_Or whatever. _

_Also, your reviews have been AMAZING and the reason I haven't replied to any of you is because I have no idea how to work this site. At all. But you guys are awesome and you make my week with your comments. Mwah. *hugs and butterfly kisses and eskimo kisses and kisses in general* _


	7. Valentine's Day, Part I

_A/N: FUCK, I wrote this and it got DELETED so I'm fucking writing it AGAIN. _

_I'm mad. _

_Anyway, I know there was some confusion over whether Kurt made cupcakes or cookies in the last episode...I apologize, I changed it halfway through and didn't do a thorough enough job editing. I'm so bad at editing. I lack the patience. _

_He made cookies, and they were delicious. But not as delicious as Kurt himself. _

_So it's Valentine's Day in my verse; this is a bit of fluff I've been planning for a while. _

_Disclaimer: Glee's still not mine, but I have a job now so soon I'll have enough money to buy them (especially with my minimum wage paycheck, WOO). _

* * *

It was almost Valentine's Day and love was in the air. So much so, in fact, that Kurt thought he would suffocate from the sickeningly thick clouds of tangible affection hanging over Dalton. Each year, Dalton held a Valentine's Day dance and an after-party. Girls were allowed, and the teachers pretended not to know about the whole after-party thing. The entire week, every spare moment had been spent decorating and preparing and Kurt was beginning to get sick of it.

It was Thursday, the day before the dance, and Kurt was walking in the cafeteria when he ran headlong into a bunch of low-hanging heart streamers, stumbling and nearly hitting a nearby table. He grabbed the offending streamers and threw them to the ground.

"Whoa, Kurt, what'd the streamer ever do to you?" Blaine chuckled, appearing behind him.

"I hate Valentine's Day," Kurt grumbled by way of answer. "And here it's like freaking Valentine's _Week." _

"Yeah, we get pretty into it," Blaine agreed. "Why do you hate it?"

Kurt sighed. "It's just an affirmation of the fact that I don't _have_ a Valentine. I know that sounds totally self-centered and you think that if I _had _a significant other I'd feel differently, but people use it as an excuse to parade their boyfriends and girlfriends around and I hate it."

Blaine shrugged. "I think it's kind of sweet. I don't see it as an excuse to parade so much as an excuse to be overly romantic or sweet, y'know?" Kurt grunted noncommittally.

"Besides, the party is always fun. REALLY fun," Blaine said, winking.

Kurt wasn't sure if that statement should make him nervous or not.

* * *

"This Warblers meeting will come to order," Wes said. "For our newest members, every year on Valentine's Day, the Warblers perform three songs at the dance." Kurt never failed to be surprised at how quickly Wes could switch between eloquent Warbler counsel member and crazy teenage boy. "We are going to need a soloist for this, so we will give you the rest of the day to prepare. Tomorrow morning, we will have auditions. Warblers dismissed!" Wes banged his gavel, and they dispersed.

"That was awfully short," Kurt commented to Blaine.

"Yeah, he usually keeps these pre-audition meetings pretty to-the-point," Blaine answered.

"So, what're you planning on singing? You _are_ auditioning, right?"

"Yep! And I can't tell you, silly, you're part of the competition," Blaine said playfully, grinning.

Kurt scoffed. "Fine. Then I won't tell you what _I'm _singing." He didn't know himself, actually.

"Fair enough."

Blaine slung an arm around his shoulders and headed for the dorms, keeping his arm there. Kurt swallowed as he was bathed in Blaine's comforting, woody scent and suddenly, he knew exactly what song he wanted to sing.

* * *

"Warblers! Settle down. Who wants to audition first?" Wes asked. Blaine's hand shot up. He was practically vibrating out of excitement, and Kurt had to suppress a grin as Wes nodded at him and he shot out of his chair like his ass was on fire. He grabbed his guitar and slid it on.

"I will be singing Superman by Joe Brooks."

Kurt's stomach dropped. Oh...that was the song Blaine had been humming the morning of Kurt's first day at Dalton, the day he woke up and...oh, there was the image of his shirtless roommate, humming that song like he had that day as he dressed. Then Blaine started to sing and holy shit, he was looking _right at Kurt. _

_"There are no words_

_To paint a picture of you, girl_

_Your eyes and those curves_

_It's like you're from some other world_

_You walk my way_

_Oh, god, it's so frustrating." _

Blaine knew the song said "girl" for rhyming purposes, but he certainly wasn't singing to one. He tore his eyes off the person he was singing to, his eyes sweeping the room.

_"So why do I disappear when you come near_

_It makes me feel so small_

_Why do I blow my lines, 'most every time like I've got_

_No_

_Chance_

_At all?" _

Back to Kurt, his hazel eyes locking onto Kurt's blue ones. Kurt's hands were clasped so tightly in his lap the knuckles were turning white. Blaine's voice sounded like velvet and chocolate and it made Kurt's head spin.

_"If I could be your Superman, I'd fly you to the stars and back again_

_'Cause every time you touch my hand you feel my powers_

_Running through your veins_

_But I can only right this song to tell you_

_That I'm not that strong_

_'Cause I'm no Superman_

_I hope you like me as I am." _

_I do, _Kurt thought wildly. _I like you, so much, just as you are. Only as you are. _He stared straight into Blaine's eyes and everyone else disappeared. He pretended, he _prayed _that Blaine was singing to him. He didn't know who was praying to, but he did, _so _hard.

_"Now it ain't no lie_

_I have to tell you how I feel_

_But each time I try_

_It gets a little more unreal_

_You say my name,_

_Oh, god, I can't stop shaking._

_So why do I disappear when you come near_

_It makes me feel so small_

_If I could read your mind, girl, would I find any trace_

_Of_

_Me_

_At all?" _

Blaine closed his eyes for at the last line, silently sending the question to Kurt. And the answer was yes, _yes. _He would find more than just a trace. Blaine was the only thing in Kurt's mind.

_"If I could be your Superman, I'd fly you to the stars and back again_

_'Cause every time you touch my hand you feel my powers running through your veins_

_But I can only write this song and tell you _

_That I'm not that strong_

_'Cause I'm no Superman_

_I hope you like me as I...am..._

_Oh, la da da da daaa." _

Blaine sang the chorus again, flying up into falsetto on the last rendition of _I'm no Superman. _Kurt's mouth dropped open as he hit the high note, holding it out until it faded, his head bent and his eyes closed. Then his eyes flicked up, staring at Kurt from under his eyelashes. His hazel eyes sparkled in almost a mischievous way, and he softly sang the last line:

_"I hope you like me...as I am. La da da la da da daaaa..." _

He played one last chord, letting it ring in the silence. Kurt was the first one to applaud, clapping wildly. His heart pounded, and he urged himself to calm down. God, it had been _amazing, _but Blaine probably hadn't been singing to him, right? He just wanted it so much he was twisting the situation, right? Probably. He sighed, letting his hands fall into his lap. Blaine grinned at the Warblers and went to sit next to Kurt. Kurt smiled at him.

"You were wonderful. I hope you get it, because that was fantastic," Kurt said quietly. Blaine's grin widened and he slid his hand into Kurt's, squeezing once in thanks before letting go.

"Who wants to go next?" Wes asked once the applause had died down. No one raised their hands. Blaine blushed. "Anybody?"

Blaine elbowed Kurt. "C'mon, you go."

"No," Kurt whispered. "I don't want to now."

"Come _on," _Blaine said. "I know you'll sound absolutely perfect." And he was smiling so surely at Kurt and his face was so flushed from singing and he was just so _beautiful, _Kurt didn't think he would've said no if Blaine had asked him to jump off a cliff.

"Okay." Kurt raised his hand. "I'll go. David?" He beckoned to David, who got out his guitar. He and Kurt sat on stools and David started to play, not bothering to announce the song. Blaine's eyebrows shot up as he recognized the song.

_"I've been awake for a while now_

_You got me feelin' like a child now_

_'Cause every time I see your bubbly face_

_I get the tingles in a silly place." _

Here Kurt started to smile, his eyes finding Blaine's.

_"Starts in my toes and I crinkle my nose_

_Wherever he goes I always know_

_That you make me smile, please,_

_Stay for a while, now, _

_Just take your time,_

_Wherever you go." _

Kurt didn't normally sing things in this genre, but it had seemed so perfect. The second he'd thought of it he couldn't get the idea out of his head. He smiled wider and began to sway a little. _  
_

_"The wind is falling on my window pane_

_But we are hiding in a safer place_

_Under covers staying dry and warm_

_You give me feelings that I adore_

_They start in my toes, make me crinkle my nose_

_Wherever he goes, I always know_

_That you make me smile, please, stay for a while, now,_

_Just take your time, wherever you go." _

An odd warmth was spreading in Blaine's stomach, and he wondered who Kurt was singing to. He _had _to be singing to _somebody. _You couldn't look so into it without thinking of _someone, _could you? He watched as Kurt's eyes left him and he looked down as he sang the next verse.

_"But what am I gonna say_

_When you make me feel this way?_

_I just..." _Kurt looked up. _  
_

_"Mmm."_ Holy fuck.

_"It starts in my toes, makes me crinkle my nose_

_Wherever he goes, I always know_

_That you make me smile, please, stay for a while now,_

_Just take your time, wherever you go."_

There was a brief interlude where Kurt just sang syllables, soft "doos" and "mmms" and they made Blaine want to grab Kurt and kiss him, it was so beautiful, but he couldn't because that would stop the gorgeous sounds coming out of this boy, this _angel. _

_"I've been asleep for a while now_

_You tuck me in just like a child now_

_'Cause every time you hold me in your arms_

_I'm comfortable enough to feel your warmth_

_It starts in my soul and I lose all control_

_When you kiss my nose, the feeling shows_

_Cause you make me smile, baby, just take your time now,_

_Holding me ti-i-ight." _

Blaine decided he really wanted to hear that word "baby" from Kurt's voice more often. He decided he just wanted to lie in his bed and listen to Kurt talk or sing or _breathe. _

The song slowed down, and Kurt's voice got very soft.

_"Wherever...wherever..._

_Wherever you go..._

_Wherever...wherever..._

_Wherever you go._

_Always know..._

_Cause you make me smile,_

_Even just for a while..." _

Kurt looked back down as David played the last chord. The Warblers burst into more raucous applause, and he high-fived David. He sat down next to Blaine again and Blaine was just looking at him.

"What?" he asked quietly.

"You...that was beautiful," Blaine said, just as quietly, his eyes boring into Kurt's. Kurt wondered desperately what he was thinking, but he didn't get the chance to wonder more because a couple more boys got up to audition and Blaine turned to watch.

* * *

"A vote, Warblers?" Wes suggested. There was a chorus of "yes's."

"All in favor of Blaine?"

Half.

"Kurt?"

The other half.

"Ian?"

And so it went. Blaine and Kurt got the most votes, but Blaine beat Kurt by two.

"Blaine will be our soloist." Blaine's face fell as the other Warblers clapped for him. He looked over at Kurt, who was clapping and trying to hide his crestfallen expression. He'd wanted to sing. _Blaine _wanted him to sing. He wanted him to sing more than he wanted to sing.

"If I may?" he asked, standing. Wes nodded. "I think...well, there are three songs. Why not three soloists?"

"I have a better idea," said another boy, also standing. "Two soloists. One group number. We have two sort of slow songs and we can finish with an upbeat number to get people moving. It _is _a dance, after all."

Wes raised an eyebrow. It was a little different than the type of thing they usually did, and there was a chorus of interested murmurings from the Warblers.

"All in favor?" Wes asked. There was not a single lowered hand in the group.

"All in favor of Kurt and Blaine as our two soloists, as they got the most votes."

Again, not a single lowered hand. Kurt and Blaine raised their hands too, voting for each other.

"All right. We will begin practice," Wes said with finality.

Kurt glanced at Blaine to find him looking back at him. They smiled at one another, both leaning over to whisper "Congrats" to the other at the same time.

* * *

_A/N: I know this is an abrupt end. I know this. However, the second part of this chapter will be along shortly. Within the next couple hours, I assume. _

_Thank you all for your kind reviews...I have learned how to reply to them now so WOOT. (: _


	8. Valentine's Day, Part II

_A/N: Continued Valentine's Day!  
_

_Up next: ANGST. _

* * *

"What exactly is the dress for this dance?" Kurt asked, looking through his wardrobe. They didn't have to wear uniforms for this, and he was absolutely thrilled.

"Casual," Blaine answered. "No tuxes or anything."

Kurt rubbed his hands together. "Excellent." He picked out a royal blue, long-sleeved shirt with a wide neck that exposed his long, pale neck. His jeans were light, and he arranged a black newsboy hat carefully on his head. Blaine turned around after putting on a light blue button-down shirt and darkwash jeans. He was rolling up his sleeves, exposing his tan forearms, when he and Kurt both noticed what they were wearing.

_Holy shit, _they both thought. _He looks fucking amazing. _

Neither knew how they were going to concentrate tonight.

* * *

The concert went well. They finished their songs and jumped off the stage into the crowd, joining the dancers as the hired band took the stage. It was loud and dark and crazy and then Blaine was grabbing Kurt's hand and dragging him through the crowd and they were in the middle and dancing and holy _hell _this was _fun. _Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand and threw his other one into the air, jumping up and down and up and down and there was sweat and music and the bass pounded in Kurt's head and he was laughing and Blaine was yelling and everything was hot and close and loud.

Suddenly, everything slowed down. The music got softer and they heard the lead singer of the band call out cheesily,

"This is for all you lovers out there!"

Kurt and Blaine stopped moving. Their dance high went down as people either paired up or left the dance floor for a break during the slow dance. They stared at each other. Blaine's sweaty curls were plastered to his forehead and Kurt's chest heaved, panting. Blaine's eyes were dark and Kurt's were bright. Blaine had unbuttoned his shirt sometime during the dancing and Kurt's hat was slightly askew. Blaine looked straight at Kurt and with a surge of courage, he smiled in what he hoped was a gentlemanly way.

"Would you care to dance?" he asked formally. Kurt's heart jumped and he couldn't help a smile from blooming on his face. Kurt slid his hand into Blaine's and their hands were sweaty but it didn't matter because Kurt's skin was _so soft _and Blaine's was rough from playing guitar and it felt perfect. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist and Kurt draped his around Blaine's shoulders and they swayed, just looking at each other. Kurt wanted to lean his head on Blaine's shoulder but he didn't want to look away either so he just danced and let Blaine hold him and _god he smelled so good and he looked so hot and uhhhhhnnnnng. _

The song ended and they detached and started jumping again like nothing had happened.

Nothing _had_ happened.

Or had it?

* * *

The afterparty was, if Kurt was being honest, a bad idea. But nobody cared because it was Valentine's Day and fuck it, they were going to have a _good time. _

There was food and there were so many decorations. The common room was covered in hearts and pink and red and white. All the sappy love colors would've made Kurt a little sick had they not also put up white Christmas lights and turned the lights off. There was music here, too, and a big bowl of punch. It was more like a bucket, and Kurt was pretty sure he saw somebody pouring a bottle of something into it.

"Want me to get you some punch?" Blaine yelled. Kurt nodded and ran out to the floor to dance again. He had so much energy, for whatever reason. Once he'd started dancing, he didn't want to stop. Blaine found him and Kurt, parched, downed the cup. He drank it so fast he didn't really register how bad it had tasted until afterward.

"Ugh, what's in this?" Kurt asked. Blaine shrugged, sipping his.

"Somebody always spikes the punch."

Kurt looked at his empty cup in horror. "I just drank alcohol?"

Blaine finished his punch and grinned. "I told you the party was fun."

"I don't drink! I had a bad experience at a party once."

Blaine was already getting more punch. "Suit yourself!" he called.

Ten minutes later, Kurt was thirsty again. He'd drink water. He'd just do that.

On his way to the water fountain, he saw three couples making out and one guy running around entirely naked. He was almost to the water when he saw Blaine leaning against the wall talking to a guy. His name was Jason, Kurt thought. Jason was looking down at Blaine in a decidedly not-straight way and Blaine was looking up at him through his eyelashes flirtatiously. Ugh, Kurt thought, that should be him Blaine was looking at like that. Fuck, he hated Valentine's Day.

Well, one more cup wouldn't hurt.

Two more.

Three.

Okay, four.

* * *

Kurt was _so _drunk. He was so so _so _drunk.

"Blaine," Kurt said. "Blaine Blaine Blaine." He started laughing. He was upside-down on a couch, his head hanging off the seat. "Blaine, you're on the _ceiling." _

"Kurt? Kurt! How much punch did you drink?"

Kurt kept laughing. "I only had about two...ten...cups. Ten. Yummy, yummy, cherry cherry punch." He stuck out his tongue, which was bright red.

"Oh, shit," Blaine groaned. "I should've watched more carefully..."

"What? I can take care of...my...meself. Me. Icandoit," Kurt said indignantly. Blaine lifted Kurt up into a sitting position, turning him around so he was facing the right way.

"Kurt, you're drunk."

"No," Kurt giggled. _"You're _drunk. We're drunk buddies. Drunk drunk drunk. Drink. Drink? Blaine, can I have...more punch?" He held up his cup, which was empty.

"No," Blaine said. He wasn't drunk. Not _that _drunk. He'd only had three cups of punch and the boy held his liquor well. Kurt, however, did not.

"You need to go to bed," Blaine told him.

"No," Kurt said. "I wanna _dance." _He tried to stand up, but stumbled instantly. Blaine caught him and Kurt looked up at him, suddenly serious. "You...who was that guy?"

"What guy?" Blaine asked, confused.

"The _guy," _Kurt tried to explain, beginning to get frustrated. "You were talking and _flirtinggggg _and _blinking _those long long lashes of yours." Kurt's eyelids felt heavy and his tongue felt fuzzy. "He was looking at you like...you were a piece of...candy. Candy, candy." He ran a finger gently down Blaine's face and felt the stubble on his chin. "Yummy. Candy. You probably don't...taste like candy though. But you're still...yummy."

Blaine was rapidly turning a shade of dark red, still supporting Kurt's thin body in his arms. Kurt leaned down to nuzzle in Blaine's curly hair and Blaine could do nothing but stand there in shock. Holy hell, what was going on?

"Your hair _is _soft," Kurt whispered directly into Blaine's ear, his breath tickling. Blaine went rigid, a small gasp escaping him. "I always wondered..."

Okay. Okay. Uh. Blaine tried to get a hold on his thoughts. He carefully pushed Kurt away. Kurt pushed back, whining at the loss of contact.

"Heyyy."

"Kurt. No. I'm not sure...I...you...you need to go to bed," Blaine sputtered frantically. "You need to go to bed."

Kurt hung his head. "Okay. I'm sorry. I just wondered who the guyyy was and why you were making your pretty eyes at him."

"My pretty eyes?" Blaine asked, amused. Okay, so drunk Kurt was all kinds of weird. But also sort of hilarious.

"Yeahhh, when you look like this." Kurt tilted his head down and looked at Blaine through his eyelashes, his blue eyes positively _smoldering _and _ohhhh holy fuck that was sexy. _

_"Oh," _Blaine breathed. Kurt snapped out of it and grinned widely at him, breathing cherry punch breath in Blaine's face.

"Okay. Bed," Blaine ordered, looping an arm around Kurt's waist and trying to help him walk. Kurt tried to take a step, he really did, but his legs stopped moving and the room started spinning and oh dear. Blaine was on the ceiling again.

"Blaine, get off the ceiling," Kurt said, irritated. Suddenly, a pair of strong arms were lifting him and he was being carried. Oh, he wasn't on the ceiling anymore. He was floating. Could he fly now? No...he was being carried...by...a flying angel.

"You're an _angel," _Kurt said aloud. "A flying, flying angel. I'm flyyying," he sang. "Flyyyyyying. Like...Superman. If I could be Superman...I'd fly you to the stars..."

"And back again," Blaine finished softly.

"Blaine, are you taking me to the stars?"

"Unfortunately, no. Just our dorm room."

"We must be back already, then. I missed the stars," Kurt said sadly. Blaine smiled.

"It's okay. They weren't that great anyway."

They reached their room and Blaine gently laid him in his bed, taking his shoes off and sitting him up to lift his shirt off. Kurt let him do it, falling back onto his pillows when he was done. His arms flopped above his head and it was all Blaine could do not to stare at Kurt's perfectly smooth, sculpted chest and his long neck and his beautiful bright eyes fluttering shut as he started into the tired stage of being drunk.

"Blaine," Kurt said sleepily. "Thank you for flying me. You can be my Superman if you wanna."

Blaine grinned, stroking Kurt's hair back from his forehead. "I'd love to be your Superman."

"Really?"

"Yes." Blaine smile faltered a little when he realized just how true that was. He didn't care about being Superman. He cared about being KURT'S Superman. He'd be anything as long as he could be Kurt's. Anything.

Kurt's eyelids fluttered and he smiled at Blaine.

"I like you...as you are," he mumbled. Blaine's eyes lit up. He lifted his arm, reaching for Blaine, but he felt heavy. Heavy and drunk. His arm couldn't quite reach, so he beckoned Blaine closer. Blaine got down on his knees and rested his chin on the bed. Kurt reached over and stroked his face ever so softly. Then, he lifted his hand to his lips and pressed them to one finger. He reached that same finger over and pressed it to Blaine's soft lips. His perfect lips. Blaine's eyes widened, his lips parting in surprise. Kurt's finger traced his lips and his entire body tingled.

Holy. Fuck.

He wanted to kiss Kurt. He wanted to kiss him all over and tell him he was perfect and fall asleep with him and wake up next to him.

But...not now. Not like this. Blaine closed his eyes, trying to get control of himself.

Not like this.

He slid his hand into Kurt's and squeezed. "Sleep well, Kurt." He started to walk away, but Kurt's voice pulled him back.

"Blaine...please don't go," Kurt whispered. "Please stay." Blaine smiled a little.

"Okay. I'll stay."

"Hold my hand."

"Okay."

Blaine did. Kurt was asleep within seconds, looking peaceful. Blaine stroked the hair away from Kurt's face again, watching his roommate sleep. He traced Kurt's elegant features, memorizing him. His best friend. Kurt squirmed a little in sleep, letting out the softest of mewling noises. Blaine's heart swelled with affection and he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his roommate's forehead.

Late that night, Blaine changed into pajamas and climbed into his bed, facing Kurt. He wanted to climb into bed with him. He wanted to bury his nose in his neck and breathe him in. He just wanted to hold him. And never let go. He wanted to tell him he was beautiful and tell him he loved him.

He...loved him.

His heart jumped at this realization. He was in love with Kurt.

So in love. He had to tell him. He needed to tell him.

No. Kurt had to decide. It had to be Kurt's decision. The whole Karofsky thing...his stolen first kiss...his second kiss was going to be _his _choice. No one else's.

Not even Blaine's.


	9. Crash

_A/N: I think we're getting close to the end. _

_Three updates in one day? I'm feeling generous. Also oddly inspired. _

_ANGST.  
_

* * *

Kurt would never drink again, he decided.

Ever.

He was bent over the toilet at about three in the morning, puking so hard he was afraid his liver was going to come out or something.

"Ugh," he groaned, leaning his forehead on the cool edge of the toilet.

"Kurt?"

He looked up slowly to see Blaine rubbing his eyes, his hair mussed, leaning on the door frame. "You okay?"

Kurt only had time to shake his head before he was throwing up again. Blaine wet a hand towel in the sink and folded it, pressing it to the back of Kurt's neck.

"I'm never drinking again," Kurt groaned. Blaine laughed a little.

"I know how you feel. Don't worry, half the school will be hungover tomorrow." He stroked his fingers through Kurt's hair, wondering if he remembered anything from last night. Kurt closed his eyes, thinking about how good Blaine's fingers and the towel felt when he was feeling so incredibly _disgusting. _

"I feel like _crap," _he moaned.

"You were pretty drunk," Blaine commented.

"I know...ugh, I'm sorry you had to deal with me," Kurt said, embarrassed.

"It's okay. I don't mind," Blaine said honestly. "Feeling better?"

Kurt nodded slowly. Blaine leaned over, flushing the toilet, and filled a cup with water for Kurt. He drank it and took the hand Blaine offered him. He put a hand on his head, wincing.

"Headache?"

"Yeah."

"Go lie in bed, okay? I'll take care of you."

Kurt's heart warmed at his words. He felt a little bad about taking advantage, but he went anyway. Blaine brought him aspirin and a cup of water.

"You'll still have a headache in the morning, but this should help, okay?" Blaine said. Kurt sighed and leaned forward, his head on Blaine's shoulder.

"Thank you."

"No problem," Blaine said shakily. Maybe Kurt _did _remember. Blaine opened his mouth to ask, but Kurt was already lying back down and saying good night. Blaine sat there for a few seconds on the edge of Kurt's bed, just looking.

_I love you. _

* * *

Blaine was not a morning person. But he got up early anyway to bring Kurt coffee and more aspirin. Kurt was cranky beyond belief and his head felt like a freaking elephant was sitting on it, but he felt a little better after coffee and everything. He was really grateful to Blaine for being so nice. But he kept looking at him funny. What did that look even mean?

It continued all through the day. Finally, that night, he asked Blaine about it.

"I'm not looking at you funny," Blaine said, frowning.

"Yes you are."

"I don't mean to..."

"I'm not upset or anything, I'm just wondering what you're thinking."

"I just...wondered...if you, uhm. Remember anything...from last night?"

"Remember anything?" Kurt's forehead crinkled in confusion. "Well. I remember getting up and puking my guts out and you took care of me." He smiled brightly at Blaine, but Blaine didn't smile back. He wasn't even looking at Kurt. Odd.

"Do you...remember anything before that?" Blaine asked. Kurt thought really hard. He tried to remember, he really did.

"All I remember is floating and the smell of home," he said, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration. "Then I woke up, and...hey. Did you take my shirt off?" he asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.

Blaine's eyes widened and he looked away, his face burning. "Uh. No. I didn't."

"You're lying."

"Am not."

"Are too! You're a terrible liar."

"Don't be silly," Blaine mumbled.

Kurt laughed. "Blaine, it's okay." Although he _did _kind of like the idea of Blaine taking his shirt off...okay, he _really _liked it.

Blaine was still blushing furiously. "Anything else?" he said, changing the subject.

"I just remember the dancing and then I was thirsty and I saw you..." he trailed off.

"Saw me what?"

"Nothing. I didn't see you."

"No, saw me what?"

"Nothing," Kurt said quickly. "I can't remember. I'm gonna go see if Wes has any leftover brownies, yeah? I saw him hoarding them last night before I drank my weight in alcohol." He ran off.

_So _close, Blaine thought.

* * *

It was a week later and all thoughts of the party had disappeared. Blaine had accepted the fact that Kurt didn't remember anything he'd said and had written it all off on him being an affectionate drunk. It didn't matter, he'd decided. It didn't. So he was in love with his roommate. Didn't matter. He couldn't do anything about it.

Ugh, but it _mattered. _

Kurt was tutoring him in French again. Blaine decided French was a _very _sexy language. And no, it had nothing to do with the fact that Kurt spouting sentences in the language sounded prettier than almost anything he'd ever heard in his entire life.

They'd stopped to take a break, and Blaine was listening to Kurt tell a story. No, wait. He was _watching _Kurt tell a story. He was watching the way his beautiful lips curled around the words and the way his tongue flicked against his teeth when he said a T word. God, he was so gorgeous. Then he realized Kurt had asked a question.

"Hmm?"

"Blaine, were you listening?"

"Uh. Sorry, I zoned out."

"Thanks a lot," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "I was _asking _if you wanted to drive to Lima with me this weekend. My friend Mercedes is having her birthday party and I was wondering if you wanted to meet my McKinley friends."

"Oh." Blaine instantly felt nervous. He did want to meet them. He did. But he was afraid they'd hate him...or something.

"Blaine. They'll love you," Kurt promised, reading his mind.

Blaine shifted nervously. "Well, okay. If you say so. I guess I will."

"Yay!" Kurt grinned excitedly. "I really want them to meet you. I mean, you're my best friend, they _have _to meet you."

Blaine blushed at that. Kurt realized what he'd said and blushed too.

"Oh...I...I mean..."

"It's okay," Blaine said, cutting Kurt off. "You're my best friend too."

They just smiled at each other, then, desperately trying to communicate everything they wished they could say in just a look.

* * *

Friday rolled around and classes ended. Blaine and Kurt were all packed for the weekend and ready to leave.

"I called my dad already and he and Carole said you could stay over," Kurt said, faking nonchalance. Really, he was ecstatic about the thought of Blaine sleeping _in his house. _He wondered if they would let Blaine sleep in his bed...no, that would be too awkward, right?

But they were just friends. And friends slept in each other's beds at sleepovers. Yeah. It wouldn't be awkward.

They went out to Kurt's car and Kurt let Blaine pick the songs for the drive. He picked I'm Yours by Jason Mraz first, and they were off.

They were singing along and everything was fine and dandy and happy and Blaine was watching Kurt's face and Kurt looked over at Blaine and smiled and...

_BOOM. _

He didn't see the truck coming, careening out of control down the road. It swerved into their lane by accident and _smashed _into them, head-on. The windshield shattered, glass flying into Kurt and Blaine's faces. A blinding pain shot up Blaine's leg and he screamed.

"BLAINE!"

Kurt's entire upper body slammed forward into the airbag and the hand he'd put up in defense was thrust backwards and the most awkward angle and he heard a _crack. _

Oh, god, his whole body was on fire. Make it stop, make it stop...

Blaine...was Blaine okay? Could he...he couldn't see. There was blood on his windshield and he felt his face swelling and oh, god, he couldn't see anymore. Sirens...were those sirens?

Was he allowed to sleep? Sleep was okay, right?

He just wanted...to sleep.

Everything went black.

* * *

_A/N: DON'T HATE ME. But seriously, three updates today and I'm BEAT. I wanna write the next scene correctly. I really wanna get it right, because it's super important. _

_And don't worry, it's not important because of death. There's no death involved in the next chapter (or hopefully any chapter I write about them unless it's about a character who dies in the canon Gleeverse). _

_My brain...feels...fuzzy...ahhhhh. Holy cheese puffs. _

_Mmmmmmmost of the angst is over. I can only cause so much pain to the characters in my fics. I had this plan where I bring in an OC and stuff, but that's another story (no pun intended). _

_Probably some one-shots to come soon and also a pirate-related thingie. BE WARNED.  
_


	10. Recovery

_A/N: I apologize for the cliffhanger! I just wanted to do that at least ONCE. I've always wanted to end a chapter dramatically (I say always, but I've been writing fanfiction for what, three weeks?) so I figured I'd just do it and SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES. _

_There wasn't THAT much suffering, just a few mildly outraged readers. _

_YOUR REVIEWS MAKE ME SO HAPPY I COULD SING. _

_Laaaaaaaaaaa_

_Glee? Still not mine. Nope. Sad, I know. _

* * *

Kurt opened his eyes and holy _fuck, _why did it hurt so much? There was a sickening pounding in his head, and every time he tried to move his eyes to look around, the pain intensified. From what he could see, he was in some sort of moving vehicle. An...ambulance? There was a man and a woman, both in EMT uniforms, moving around him and out of the corner of his eye he vaguely recognized an IV. His head continued _pounding _and he couldn't feel anything below his waist. Then...

_Blaine. _

Where was Blaine? Kurt tried to sit up despite the pain, desperate to see him, desperate to make sure he was okay.

"Bla...aine..." Kurt croaked, and the sound echoed angrily in his head. One of the EMTs turned to him.

"Kid, did you say something?"

"Blaine," Kurt gasped again, louder this time. "Where's...Blaine...I..."

The throbbing in his head got worse the more he tried to talk, and he felt himself going under again. _No, _he had to find Blaine. He had to...where...where was he?

Stars clouded his vision and the last thing he remembered before blacking out again was trying to hear what the EMT was saying.

"Your friend? He's-"

* * *

Kurt was happy. He was so happy, and everything felt nice. He was wrapped up in a blanket of something and he felt warm and safe. He heard soft music from somewhere...a low, gentle voice, singing to him. He didn't know where he was, but he liked it. Was this heaven? Kurt could deal with this kind of heaven. He saw flashes of hazel eyes and curly hair and he felt warm hands and the music was getting louder. Kurt reached for the voice, wanting to hear the words it was singing. But the more he reached for it, the farther away it went. He tried harder to find the source of the beautiful music, but it was fading and it was replaced by the harsh sounds of beeping and quiet sobbing. The warmth was replaced with cold sheets and a bright light appeared behind his eyelids.

Kurt wasn't happy anymore.

He opened his eyes to see Carole crying into Burt's shoulder. He opened his mouth to ask them what was wrong, but nothing came out. Carole noticed he was awake first.

"Kurt, honey!" She reached out her arms as if to hug him but seemed to hesitate at all the bandages and pulled back. He looked at her oddly, clearing his throat.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice coming out hoarse and grating at his throat. Carole reached out and ever so gently stroked his hair back.

"Honey, you were in a car crash. We were so worried about you. You...you broke your wrist, and...you had to have stitches. One hundred in all."

"Where's Blaine?" Kurt demanded, still feeling foggy but beginning to come back to his senses. Carole bit her lip. Kurt felt a sickening twist in his stomach. "Where's. Blaine," he repeated. Carole turned to Burt.

"He's...uh...he hasn't woken up yet," he said carefully. "He got a pretty bad blow to the head. And his leg's broken."

Kurt felt tears pricking at his eyes and they burned. Blaine...he had to be okay. He was going to be okay, right? He couldn't _not _be okay. Kurt...Kurt needed him. Kurt didn't know how to live without him. He closed his eyes, letting the tears fall silently. His head had started pounding again and he just wanted to sleep. He wanted to go back to the place where everything was happy and Blaine was okay.

"Kurt, honey, we were supposed to get the nurse when you woke up...I..." Carole called for the nurse, but Kurt was already drifting off and he didn't have the energy to try and stay awake.

* * *

Kurt was a little less foggy when he woke up again, and the lights were a little less harsh because he was expecting them this time. This time Finn was sitting by his bed with Mercedes. He smiled at her. He hadn't seen her since he moved to Dalton; he'd tried to arrange shopping dates and stuff but this weekend had been the first time hew as going to see her for a few weeks now. He'd missed her.

"Hi," he croaked. Mercedes squeaked and jumped up, hugging him gingerly.

"Boy, you had me worried sick! Don't do that ever again!"

"I'm sorry," Kurt said genuinely. She kissed his forehead.

"It wasn't your fault. I _was _worried, though. I'm so glad you're okay."

Kurt smiled at her. "Me too."

Finn stood up. "Dude, you look terrible."

Kurt couldn't help rolling his eyes. "Thanks."

"I mean, you still...I just meant..."

"It's fine, Finn. Good to see you too."

Finn turned red and grinned sheepishly at him. Mercedes knelt next to his bed and squeezed his hand.

"I heard about your boy. Don't worry, he's gonna be okay."

Kurt nodded, and even in this situation he couldn't help wishing that Blaine actually _was _"his boy."

* * *

A day passed, and Kurt could do nothing but lie there and let his head pound.

He'd never felt worse.

He knew it was his fault...if he'd just kept his eyes on the road, none of this would've happened and he'd be introducing Blaine to his friends right now and they'd be preparing to have the most epic sleepover of their lives.

He just wanted to see him. He didn't care if he wasn't awake, he _needed _to see him. He needed to brush the curls he loved so much off Blaine's forehead and whisper to him that everything would be all right because it _would be, _it had to be. Kurt was a realistic person, but he wasn't realistic enough to think about what might happen if Blaine never woke up.

Throughout the day, nurses would come in and inject things into his IV and sometimes his headache would subside. Then it would slowly come back, starting slow, just a mildly painful pulse every few seconds until it turned into this pounding, throbbing pain just behind his eyes and all across his forehead and temples.

It fucking _hurt. _

That night, Kurt couldn't sleep, so he cried, which made his headache worse.

* * *

The next day, they let him sit up for longer than meals. They let him watch TV, but that gave him a headache after a while so he slept on and off until meals came. When he wasn't sleeping, he thought about Blaine. He never thought about Blaine now, injured and lying in a bed alone and comatose. He thought about Blaine happy and lively at Dalton. He thought about Blaine's eyes and the way they twinkled when he was talking and how his hair tumbled into his eyes when his head was bent low over his guitar and how his fingers moved so gently against the strings and how there were callouses on his fingers from guitar but it felt sort of nice, and how his laugh made everything right in the world.

He thought about making cookies and he thought about Disney movie marathons in their dorm room on Saturdays and he thought about that time he and Blaine raided Wes and David's room and stole their chocolate stash and Blaine convinced him to help him eat it and they both got sick.

He thought about how Blaine made him feel like he wasn't just the misfit gay kid. He thought about how Blaine made him feel like he mattered. He thought about Blaine's perfect smile and his perfect lips and his perfect laugh and the perfect way he made everything seem like it was going to be okay and the perfect way he didn't even know how perfect he was.

He thought about how perfect it would be if he could kiss those perfect lips and hold him and he wished that he were even close to perfect so he could be worthy of wishing Blaine was _his _Blaine.

* * *

The third day, Kurt was done. He was done lying there doing nothing and fuck if his health mattered because _he was going to see Blaine today. _He'd spent half the night thinking of his argument for the nurse about why he was going to get up today and dammit, she'd better let him. When she walked in, Kurt said in a rush,

"I want to get out of bed today and I want to see Blaine Anderson." Way to be eloquent, Hummel. He bit his lip, preparing to argue.

"Okay. That's fine. You shouldn't walk, so we'll get you into a wheelchair and you can go visit him."

Oh. "Oh. Thank you."

The nurse smiled and went to get him his breakfast.

Later, he was being wheeled into Blaine's room, and for a split second before they went in the door, he wasn't sure if he wanted to see Blaine like this.

But...what if this was the last time he saw him, ever? He steeled himself as they entered, but the scene within still broke his heart.

Blaine was lying on his bed, his leg wrapped in a cast and his arms covered in angry lines of stitches. There was a smaller line of stitches on his neck, and his face was bruised. His head was wrapped in bandages. Kurt's mouth fell open and tears instantly began streaming down his face, his heart absolutely shattering. The nurse patted his back gently.

"I'll give you a minute." She wheeled him right next to Blaine's bed and left. Kurt could do nothing but stare at his friend before he started sobbing uncontrollably, leaning his head on his arms.

It took him a minute to calm down, but he took a few deep breaths and raised his head again. Blaine looked almost like he was asleep. Kurt reached out, brushing the curls off his forehead. They were soft, like he'd always imagined.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered shakily, more to himself than to Blaine. But he kept talking. He felt like he needed to. "Blaine...you have to wake up. Okay? You have to. You can't leave me alone here. You...you told me courage, but _you're _my courage. I can't do this without you." He paused, taking a deep breath. "I only met you a couple months ago, but...you changed my life. You...you make me look forward to waking up every day, and you make me hate going to sleep because it's one less minute I can spend with you. You're perfect, and you don't even know it. I just...I just want you to wake up so I can tell you all these things. So I can tell you...so I can tell you that _I love you." _

Kurt stopped. _I love you. _It hit him with the force of a freight train: _He was in love with Blaine. _He loved his best friend, more than anything else in the entire world, more than he'd ever loved anything or anyone.

"I love you," he repeated. "I love you, I love you, I am _so in love with you. _And you need to wake up so I can tell you. Please," he begged, grabbing his friend's hand and squeezing. "I...I'm sorry, Blaine, I'm sorry about the truck and I'm sorry I wasn't looking at the road and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that you're the only one I want to be with. Please, Blaine. Wake up, you have to wake up." He was crying again, the tears streaming down his face and dropping onto the sheets.

"Please," he gasped again before he let his head fall onto the bed. He sobbed into the mattress, his hands curling desperately into balls around the sheets. His head was hurting again but he didn't care because he just wanted Blaine to _wake up. _

_Then..._

A hand. Soft, soft fingers, fluttered over his on the bed. His head shot up and suddenly, he was staring into the most beautiful pair of eyes he'd ever seen.

"Kurt?" said the most beautiful voice he'd ever heard. Blaine's voice was hoarse and rough, but Kurt didn't care. Kurt placed his hands gently on either side of Blaine's face, as gently as he could.

_"Blaine," _he breathed. His thumbs stroked gently over Blaine's cheekbones, and he just wanted to kiss him, he wanted to throw his arms around him and hold him until they both fell asleep.

"You love me?" Blaine croaked, confused. Kurt gave a breathless laugh.

"Yes, Blaine. I love you, I've always loved you. It's always been you."

Blaine smiled crookedly, his eyelids fluttering. "I...love you too." Kurt leaned forward and pressed his lips to Blaine's in the softest of kisses, barely touching their lips together, and Blaine still smelled like Blaine in the foreign chemical smell of the hospital. Warmth spread through Kurt's body and he sighed, leaning his head tiredly on Blaine's bed. He was spent. Blaine's fingers began moving softly through his hair, and he closed his eyes.

"I...should call the nurse," he said quietly.

"Mmm," Blaine said. His throat hurt and he was thirsty and his head was throbbing a bit but he didn't care because Kurt _loved him _and he loved Kurt and everything was going to be okay.

Everything was going to be okay.

* * *

_EEK, I hope you liked it! I tried my hardest to make it okay. I'm pretty proud of the way it turned out. _

_Ahhhh, my brain is spent. I feel sooo much better having posted it, though. Bedtime! I hope you enjoy. If you've made it this far, I love you, you deserve candy. _

_Up next: FLUFF SO MUCH FLUFF. _

_I LOVE YOU ALL, GOODNIGHT  
_


	11. Perfect

_A/N: I'm SO sorry it took so long to update! But I've been so busy...I literally worked like twenty hours last week, which doesn't sound like a lot but it IS when you add it to school and flute lessons and piano lessons and band and choir and swimming and various contests because it's THAT time of year..._

_ANYWAY. So I think this is the last chapter. I'm probably gonna start on that sequel, though, and there MIGHT be a pirate fic in my brain and it MIGHT involve Blaine as a pirate and Kurt as a kidnapped prince. Maybe. Ahem. _

_Also, I know anything I say about medical endeavors is probably incorrect. I realize this. I tried to research a little, but eh.  
_

_HERE YOU GO. If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! Your reviews keep me writing and you are all amazing. _

_Still don't own Glee.  
_

* * *

It was four days later, and Kurt and Blaine were allowed to go home. They had spent nearly every waking moment with each other, just sitting and talking and telling stories. Burt and Carole had visited, and so had New Directions, but they only came once and it was while Blaine was sleeping. Blaine's parents had come, too, to find Kurt resting his head on Blaine's mattress, sleeping, their son dozing lightly with his hand in his boyfriend's hair. They decided to come back later.

They were to leave separately with their parents, since neither of them had their cars.

"Call me," Kurt whispered, his arms tightly around Blaine's neck, breathing in the scent of the other boy. Even after days in the hospital, he still smelled like _Blaine. _

"I will," Blaine whispered back. They released each other reluctantly, at the same time. Burt wrapped his arm around Kurt's shoulders as they walked to the car, and Blaine wobbled away on his crutches. It made Kurt's heart hurt even though he knew he was going to be okay.

The car ride home was mostly silent, but when they pulled into Kurt's driveway, Burt put his hand over Kurt's uninjured one.

"I'm real glad you're okay, Kurt," he said quietly. Kurt blinked, his eyes suddenly stinging a bit. He'd never heard his dad sound so vulnerable, not since his mom died. "I...thought we'd lost you when we got the call that you'd been in a crash. But..." he cleared his throat. "You're okay now, and I can't tell you how happy I am that you are." Kurt leaned over, pulling him into a hug.

"I love you, dad," he mumbled.

"Love you too, kiddo."

Kurt dragged himself inside and fell into his bed. He felt disgusting from the hospital but oh my _god _his own bed felt _amazing. _He'd just sleep for a minute. Just for a minute, and then he'd go shower.

* * *

He woke up when his phone rang. He sat bolt upright in bed, still in the pajamas he'd been wearing for four days (his parents had brought them to him the second day). His phone vibrated wildly, the screen lighting up the dark room. He grabbed it, trying to read the caller I.D in the dark. His eyes felt blurry and he couldn't really read it, so he just gave up and answered.

"Hello?" Bleh, his voice was all gravelly from sleep. He cleared his throat.

"Kurt?" Suddenly, he wasn't tired anymore.

"Blaine?" He gripped the phone with two hands as if holding it tighter would bring his boyfriend closer to him.

"Hi," Blaine said softly.

"Hi."

"How're you?"

"Much better now that I'm in my own bed."

"Oh, were you sleeping?"

"Yeah," Kurt said. "But I was just about to shower, anyway. How're you?"

"I'm good. I'm watching Beauty and the Beast."

"Really?" Kurt sat up straighter. "What part are you at?"

And just like that, they fell back into easy conversation. Kurt put Beauty and the Beast in and fast-forwarded to the part Blaine was at and they watched together. They talked late into the night and fell asleep on the phone together.

Kurt missed his moisturizing routine and his shower, but for the first time, he didn't mind.

* * *

The next day was Tuesday, but the school had granted them the rest of the week off. They both planned to go back that night so they didn't have to catch up on too much make-up work. Until then, they had the whole day to , it was their first date. They'd had about a million non-dates, and they were just going to coffee like they usually did (maybe a movie afterward), and Kurt had no idea why he was so nervous.

_Or _why he couldn't figure out what to wear. He was fantastic at putting together outfits, if he did say so himself. But for some reason, today, nothing caught his eye. He tried doing his hair first, but it wasn't cooperating either. Come on, could it not just pull itself together for one day while he went out with his new boyfriend?

Apparently not. He sighed, finally just closing his eyes and pointing randomly to one of the shirts he'd laid out on his bed.

Oh. That could work.

* * *

Blaine walked up to the door (if you could call it walking with those damn crutches), shifting his weight onto his good leg to knock. He was glad it wasn't his right leg that was broken so he could still drive.

His heart pounded wildly in his chest, making him feel a little faint. Why was he so nervous? This was _Kurt, _for god's sake. He needed to chill.

Just as he'd gotten his breathing under control, Kurt opened the door and _holy hell, _there was no way he was going to be able to chill when his boyfriend looked like _that. _

He was wearing black skinny jeans, tighter than anything Blaine had ever seen a human being wear before. How did he even get those _on? _He wore a simple blue v-neck with it, and it would've been oddly casual had he not also been wearing a leather jacket. A _leather jacket. _It hugged his waist perfectly, showing off his slight curves. He reached up to brush his hair nervously back from his forehead and Blaine had to make a conscious effort to _not _tackle him. That probably wouldn't be the best idea with his leg and Kurt's wrist. But _DAMN. _

Meanwhile, Kurt was having a similar conflict within himself, staring at Blaine's light plaid shirt, left unbuttoned and rolled up to his sleeves. His white t-shirt underneath was tight across his muscular chest, and he still managed to look _fantastic _in his dark jeans even with his cast. His hair didn't have much gel in it, falling free and curly over his ears and Kurt just wanted to _touch. _

"You look amazing," Blaine said emphatically, reaching his hand out to Kurt's. Kurt took his hand and squeezed it before shutting the door behind him and letting go of Blaine's hand. He wanted desperately to keep holding it, but Blaine couldn't hold Kurt's hand and walk at the same time with his leg. However, the instant they were in the car, Blaine slid his hand into Kurt's and immediately began stroking his thumb gently over Kurt's knuckles and his fingers were rough and it felt _so nice. _

They were off, then, heading for their favorite coffee shop. Kurt ordered their coffees and Blaine paid for them. Blaine mixed Kurt's coffee the way he liked it and Kurt pulled Blaine's chair out for him. They were both gentlemen and they were both determined to act like it. They sat, their heads inclined toward each other as if pulled by magnets, their fingers tangled together and their legs touching under the table. Kurt watched Blaine's eyes light up when he talked and Blaine watched the graceful way Kurt's lips formed around his words. They didn't talk so much as _exist, _occasionally saying things and laughing, but mostly speaking in little touches and glances and blushes.

Later, Blaine drove them home. He walked Kurt to the door and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek. Kurt laughed a little and rolled his eyes.

"Are you kidding me, Blaine Anderson?"

Blaine looked at him, surprised. "What?"

"You call that a kiss?"

"I...I was being a gentleman!" Blaine protested. Kurt leaned forward, sliding a hand behind Blaine's neck. He pulled him slowly forward.

"Well, maybe you should forget about that for a minute," he whispered, pressing his lips softly to Blaine's. Blaine inhaled quickly, gasping quietly against Kurt's soft lips. How were his lips so soft and _full? _He leaned into the kiss, sliding his tongue out to trace Kurt's lips. Kurt shivered visibly, pulling Blaine closer and deepening the kiss. Blaine's crutches fell and he pressed Kurt up against the door, partially for balance and partially because his boyfriend was so hot and who cared about him being a gentleman because Kurt tasted _so _good, like coffee and something else that was just distinctly Kurt. Blaine's curls were soft under Kurt's fingers and his hands were cool against his hot skin as they slid just under his shirt to trace gentle circles into the skin there. And Kurt was _moaning _into the kiss and it was the most delicious noise Blaine had ever heard.

They finally pulled apart some minutes later, breathing heavily with their foreheads pressed together. Blaine nuzzled his nose against Kurt's and Kurt giggled breathlessly.

"I love you," Blaine whispered.

"I love you too," Kurt whispered back.

"Maybe I should be a gentleman less often," Blaine mused, leaning his head on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt laughed.

"Maybe you should."

He leaned up to kiss Kurt again, softly.

It was perfect, it was all _so _perfect.

Because they were Kurt and Blaine, and _they _were perfect.

* * *

**_THE END! _**

_Sequel to come about some time in the future. Not sure how I feel about the ending, but I was always terrible at endings. _

_Anyway, thank you for reading, every single one of you(: _

_YAAAAAAAAAAY_


End file.
